how powerful
by fnickxxISxxsuperman
Summary: WQhat Rosalie thought as she killed Royce


**For the more masochistic of us who always wondered what went through her head when Rosalie killed Royce. One shot.**

I arranged my hair carefully around my shoulders, making sure it looked perfect. Edward stood in my doorway, watching me with scrutinizing eyes. I hated how he would watch me sometimes, even though Carlisle had explained that newborns were unpredictable and would snap at any moment. It still irritated me. Edward of all of my new family should know I was too distracted by rage right now to care about something as silly as being thirsty.

I had drunk a lot of animal blood lately. My excuse was that I didn't want to loose control and end up drinking Royce's- oh how I loathed to think the name- blood. But my real reason was that I wanted to terrify him, and what better way then to look like the most beautiful, deadly creature he had ever seen?

Edward laughed at my thoughts. I liked Edward somewhat better now. He still annoyed me, but in a brotherly way. Like my other brothers had annoyed me when I was human.

I turned to him.

"How do I look?" I asked, and posed. The wedding dress I had stolen swirled gently around my feet. To make this even more terrifying for- I refuse to even think the name- _him_, I had added animal blood in random places on the dress. I shredded the ends in certain places, adding tasteful tears to enhance the effect.

Edward raised his eyebrows. "Don't you think you're being a little… childish with this?"

I raised my eyebrows back. "Um?"

Edward then realized the irony of what he had said and started laughing. Who would know better than a mind reader whether or not I thought I was being childish? I turned back to the mirror. I loved my new body. It was beautiful. Perfect in every way. Feminine, yet it still gave out an aura of power. I liked that. No one would be able to do to me again what _he_ had, but at least now they would be too utterly terrified to even think of such a thing.

Now I, Rosalie Akranti Hale Cullen, was powerful. No one would hurt me again.

I walked through the streets of the town I lived in. Homeless people littered the streets, sleeping. Some had pots set up for money, foolishly left open while they slept. I saw one girl who had met almost the same unfortunate fate as mine. But of course, she had been allowed to live. Edward had told me the name and the house of her wrongdoer. I toyed with the idea of visiting him, too. But now was not the time. All I did now was place a thick role of money it the can at her feet, then hiding it carefully where it would wake her if somebody tried to steal it. I continued on my way. One more person would not be sleeping in a cardboard box after tonight.

I stepped up to _his_ house. The lights were out, and I could smell the thick scent of fright and beer radiating through the walls. I smiled wickedly. Poor _him_ had tried to drink to forget who was coming for him.

It had been a good idea to kill his friends first. He had a good idea of who was coming now.

I snuck through the house, snorting quietly at the flowers and mourning notes that were every where. Most of them began with, "We are so sorry for your loss…" Oh, if only everyone knew the irony of their heartfelt apologies. How many of their daughters would have met the same fate I had if I had allowed for this fiend to go unpunished?

I smelled the incredibly enticing smell of blood, but I ignored it. I could sense five humans in the house. His father, his mother, _him_, and two other humans who's scent was unfamiliar. I realized with mixed emotions that they must be guards. I was pleased because _he_ obviously was scared. But of course, he was now basking in the false reassurance that these guards would protect him. I was annoyed that I would have to kill them. I was scared because I had no reason to not drink their appealing blood. _They_ weren't so disgusting that their scent repulsed me.

Poor people. But of course, they must know the risk they were taking. It wouldn't surprise them.

I ghosted down the hall, running quickly to the guards. They weren't able to see me before I snapped their necks. It only produced a slight cracking sound. Nothing loud to wake _his_ parents. I didn't want to have to kill them, too. They were innocent and oblivious to their son's repulsive deeds.

The door that _he_ hid behind was thick and metal. Locks were lined up inside and outside of it. Inside, _his_ breathed was hitched and uneven, proving that he was awake. I smiled, before reaching out and carefully, silently crushing the locks into unrecognizable hunks of metal.

I entered silently, knowing that _he_ wouldn't hear me until I wanted him to. He would scream, but the room was soundproof. No one would hear him. _He_ hadn't wanted anyone to hear his drunken shouts and realize what he had done.

He was crouched behind a large chair, bottles of drained beer littering the floor. Upon my desire, my heels started clicking at exactly the right moment.

I made my voice perfect, musical, yet still radiating power. It slithered like a snake across the room, around the chair, and right into his fearful, waiting ear.

"Oh, Royce…"

I made it slow for him, breaking his rotting limbs one at a time, relishing every useless scream for help and obsolete plea for mercy. Every time he apologized profusely, I responded the same way.

"Royce, it's time you realized how powerful an angry woman can actually be."


End file.
